


Advice from Suga to Himself

by goodgollyzollie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Getting Together, M/M, Stupid Boys being Stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 17:44:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6917053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodgollyzollie/pseuds/goodgollyzollie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suga is actually terrible at taking advice from himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Advice from Suga to Himself

Suga often let his thoughts wander, and they often wandered in Daichi Sawamura. Okay, not too often, but enough that Suga entertained the idea of hugging, kissing- and yes, fucking- him on a regular basis. Which, on some levels, disturbed Suga. _Daichi has been your friend for years_ , Suga tells himself, _so you need to stop_.  
Obviously, Suga needs to get better at giving himself advice.  
     Suga has not always thought of Daichi this way, of course. Through his high school years, he was completely focused on volleyball and the team, no thoughts of lasting romance on his mind. Sure, he dated a cute girl for a while in his second year, and had a rather closeted fling with a boy a few months later. But he never let either of those things steal his focus from the game. But now, on his second year in college, he had the brain capacity to have many different focuses. And poor Daichi had to pay the price.  
     It’s just, Daichi had an air about him that Suga loved. He loved how Daichi seemed to have everything in control, or he always had a plan. His confidence made Suga in turn feel more confident. Also, he was just gorgeous, so he had that going for him too. The only thing that Suga wasn’t totally happy with was the fact Daichi was just about one hundred percent straight.  
     So, on a Friday afternoon hallway through his second year of college, he asked a girl to go with him to dinner on Saturday. Suga felt bad, using the girl as a distraction, but he hoped that he could develop feelings for her and forget Daichi. _I will fall in love with this girl, and I will stop loving Daichi_ , Suga told himself. After that, he felt slightly better about the whole thing.  
 _It’s not like this is the first time you’ve done this. Just make it work this time._  
     That plan was scrapped when he opened his apartment door and saw Daichi stretched out on his futon. Suga froze as Daichi looked up at him and grinned. “Hey, Suga!” Daichi jumped up. Suga still didn’t move, and he hoped his face looked shocked rather than aghast, which is how he felt inside. Daichi walked towards him, and Suga forced his mouth to smile. “Hey, Daichi,” He said, and was pulled into a quick hug, “What are you doing here?”  
     “Well, you gave me a key last time I was here, and I just thought I’d come over for the weekend,” Daichi was still grinning, and Suga felt his insides start to burn. _Shit._  
     “Oh, really?” Suga kept a smile on his face, but he was starting to panic. Just a little.  
     “Yeah,” Daichi said, “I figured since we haven’t seen each other in a few weeks, I could spend the weekend here,”  
     Suga slowly felt himself crumble. “Has it been a few weeks already?”  
     Daichi was chattering away, something about Suga’s apartment’s decor, but Suga was too far gone to listen. _I’m supposed to go to dinner with a girl who asked out to get over Daichi, and now Daichi is here in my apartment and this is not going to plan._ Suga grimaced as soon as Daichi turned around. _Just fucking great._  
  
After a long talk over take-out in the apartment, Suga’s feeling of dread had settled into a dull hum. Saturday night was hours away, and his feelings towards Daichi weren’t growing any stronger, which was a slight relief. However, around three in the morning, Suga realized something very crucial that affected the sleeping arrangements in the apartment: the single futon wedged in the corner.  
     Daichi seemed to notice this, too, though he seemed less affected that Suga. He simply shrugged and peeled off his shirt before flopping down next to the wall. When Suga offered to sleep on the floor, Daichi quickly told him what he thought of that plan. “Don’t be a dumbass, Suga. I can stand to sleep next to my best friend for a night or two, however gay it may seem.”  
     The phrase drove a shard of ice in Suga’s heart, but he reluctantly laid down next to Daichi. Within a few minutes, Daichi’s breathing evened out, slowly shifting his sleeping position. Suga, however, remained panicked and tense. He could feel his every nerve, hyperaware, his own body heating up from Daichi’s body heat. He could sense Daichi, a mere half-arm’s length away, and the thought made him have a slightly more difficult time breathing. _Pull it together, Suga, you’re not some love sick teenager. You should be able to sleep next to another guy without getting all skittish._ Still, he found himself inching away from Daichi’s hand, which was splayed on the sheets between them. He forced himself to turn his back to Daichi, firmly closing his eyes. _Don’t think about him. Just sleep, Suga._   
     It took a while, but eventually he fell into an uneasy sleep.  
  
“Morning, Suga,” Suga felt a hand rest on his arm, and his eyes snapped open. Daichi was sitting up, smiling slightly at a sleepy-eyed and rumpled Suga. “It’s nearly eleven, and I wasn’t sure what time you wanted to get up at,”  
     Suga blinked in the light filtering around the room, but paused when he focused on Daichi. He was encompassed by the sun, his bare shoulders and back catching the light in an angelic fashion, face turned slightly down to Suga so his eyelashes were illuminated and irises almost backlit. If Suga weren’t already in love with him, he would have fallen then.  
     “Ah, thanks, Daichi,” He said, quickly pushing the blanket off himself and standing up. “I guess it’s good I don’t work until one, because I can take a seriously long time to get up some mornings. How did you sleep, Daichi? I slept fine, just fine. I think I’ll make some coffee. Do you want any coffee? I have enough so-”  
     “Suga, stop talking, please. I can barely keep up,” Daichi was grinning slightly, and Suga paused his manic monologue.  
     “Right,” Suga mumbled, “Well, um, do you want coffee?”

When Suga left Daichi in his apartment (“I’ll be fine, Suga. I’m not going to trash the place or anything.”), he was nervous about the evening all over again. What if the girl wasn’t into him? What if she was? Did he have to bring her back to his apartment? Would she bring him to hers? He hadn’t had sex with anyone in a few months. Would it be obvious? Why he assuming she wanted to have sex with him? Maybe she wouldn’t want to. Maybe she would. How would he know? Now you just sound like a dumb teenager, Suga. He sighed. _How did I ever get through high school?_  
  
He left work at seven, and his date started at eight thirty. _Plenty of time, right?_ Suga tried not to panic too much, but when he got to his apartment and saw Daichi wrapped in a towel, dripping wet and digging through Suga’s clothes, he was assuredly not okay. “What are you doing?” Suga barely managed to keep the squeak out of his voice, and Daichi snapped up.  
     “S-suga! Hey,” He ducked his head, but Suga was pretty sure he saw him blush. “I didn’t pack enough shirts. Can you spare one?”  
     “Uh, um, yeah,” The two of them did an awkward, I’ll-step-this-way-no-wait-this-way shuffle around each other, causing Suga to pitch forward at one point and Daichi raising a hand to grip his arm. The gesture, which may have been fine under normal circumstances, was a bit too intimate given the fact Daichi was almost naked and the fact he held on a bit longer than necessary.  
     Both thoroughly uncomfortable, Suga passed Daichi a shirt and Daichi mumbled a thanks before disappearing into the bathroom. Suga stood for a moment, staring out the window at the darkening sky. _Smooth, Suga. So fucking smooth_. He groaned inwardly, and rubbed his face roughly. After a grumbly sigh, he ignored his discomfort and started pulling out new clothes. _What do I normally even wear on a date?_ _Do I even need to change?_ He glanced down at what he was wearing, and after a moment decided this girl wouldn’t appreciate him smelling like the pizza place he worked at. He pulled off his shirt, and tossed it into the corner before weeding through his (meager) supply of clean shirts. He pulled out a white shirt, sniffed it, and tossed it away. He reached for another when a throat cleared behind him, causing him to start slightly. _It’s just Daichi, moron._  
     “What are you doing?” Daichi asked.  
     “I got a date in a little while, so I’m currently trying to find a clean shirt,” Suga replied. He found a satisfactory shirt, and turned to Daichi. Daichi’s face flashed with disappointment? confusion? but he quickly smiled.  
     “Good on you, man. What’s she like?” He asked.  
     “Oh, a nice girl from one of my childhood development courses. Big eyes,” Suga shrugged. “I realized I hadn’t been out with anyone for a couple of months, so we’re having dinner,”  
     Daichi nodded, and kept smiling. “Oh, good for you. Good, good. Well, I’m going to hang out here for the night. I got a paper due on Tuesday so…”  
     Suga nodded, though a little puzzled by Daichi’s behavior. However, he just chalked it up to himself being anxious and noticing things that weren’t there, and went to the bathroom to clean up.

It was obvious from the first five minutes of the date that it wasn’t going to work out. Both Suga and the girl were late by twenty minutes, and both made lame halfhearted attempts to blame traffic though neither owned cars. Once they got inside, their conversation didn’t get much past the atmosphere of the building and the paper due for their class. Soon after, Suga’s date began to flirt with their server. Then they both played their parts of polite but disinterested date until dinner was over and the girl’s friends called her cell to invite her to the club with them.  
     No further plans were made for Suga.  
     So when he trudged home at 10:17, early by Saturday night standards, he was feeling both relieved and dejected. Relieved that he wouldn’t have to go through the same agonizing process with the same girl again, and dejected that his plan didn’t work. But throughout the whole night, Suga had been thinking about Daichi. How the evening would have been so much better with him. How he would have eagerly anticipated the dinner rather than dreaded it. How he would have tried his hardest to make plans again. How he wished he was dating Daichi. When he opened his apartment door, he had pulled himself into a depressed state that included thoughts of kissing and more with Daichi that would never be reality.  
     He dropped his coat in the hall, and leaned his head against the wall. He could hear Daichi typing in the room, but he wasn’t ready to face him quite yet. He needed to collect himself. Those traitorous, damned thoughts of love with his super straight friend replayed in his head like clockwork, rewinding whenever he though they were going to end.  
Before he could chose if he should just leave the apartment for another walk or three, Daichi opened the door dividing the bedroom from the rest of the apartment. “Oh, hey, Suga. How’d the date go?” He looked uncomfortable, almost nervous. His fingers twisted sharply in front of him before knotting tightly. Suga watched them for a second before replying.  
     “Not so great. She’s actually at club with her friends right now,” He shrugged, and brushed past Daichi into his bedroom/kitchen/living space. “How’s the paper coming?”    
     “Um, fine. So, you’re not going to go out with her again?”  
     “No, we didn’t really hit off. What’s your paper on?”  
     “The relevance of the pre-Meiji period to our society today based on common political patterns. And stop unsuccessfully changing the conversation, Suga, because I want to talk about this,”  
      Suga paused at the sink, before filling a chipped cup with water. “Okay, well, neither of us wanted to be there, she flirted with our server incessantly, and halfway through our parting niceties her friends called her from the club to ask her where she was. So, no, I probably won’t be go out with her again,” He managed to keep his voice level, but after he drained his glass he set it down with a bit too much force. Daichi jumped at the bang of the glass against the metal sink basin.  
     Neither spoke. Suga breathed slowly, pleading with himself not to grab Daichi and throw him against the wall to kiss him until he forgot the terrible date. He stood up straighter, and flicked his gaze up to Daichi. His friend stood, tense and tall and decidedly unconfident in this situation, and Suga smiled weakly, and began to cross to his futon. “I just had a bit of a disappointing evening is all,” And before he could even tell himself not to, he trailed his fingers across Daichi’s hand. He felt him stiffen, but Suga didn’t react. He flopped down onto the futon, keeping his face blank, and asked “You want to watch something?” He opened his laptop, and looked at Daichi with his eyebrows raised. Daichi was staring at him, eyes wide and expression unreadable.  
     “Suga,”  
     “I have Netflix,”  
     “This is what I mean when I say you’re bad at changing the subject,”  
     “What subject?”  
     Daichi let out a frustrated growl, and glared at Suga. “Really, Suga? Really?”  
     “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” _Fuck it all, Suga, you coward._ “And even if I did change the subject, I don’t really think it’s too important,”  
     “You can be so…infuriating,” Daichi said, visibly struggling with words, “I mean, you always think it’s good to keep your thoughts to yourself, and it pisses me off,” Daichi paused again, staring at the ceiling, before continuing. “Suga, I want to know what you’re thinking, so don’t bullshit me on this,” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Why did you just touch my hand?”  
      _Bullshit him, bullshit him, be the coward you are, bullshit him!_ “I think the reason my date went terribly was because I just wanted to be with you the whole time,”  
 _Good job, Suga._  
     “You mean it?”  
     Suga’s head snapped up. He saw a red Daichi, but he didn’t appear to be red with anger. More of embarrassed. _Now you’ve humiliated him._  
     “Yeah, but it’s not your job to-” Suga swallowed his sentence. It sounded snarky and pitiful, two things he’d rather Daichi not see him as. Instead, he turned away from Daichi and stared at his blank computer screen.  
     “I know it’s not my job, but I’d still like to, ah, I don’t know, be with you too, maybe?” Daichi mumbled. Suga froze. Daichi shuffled to Suga’s side, sitting down, and looked at him. Suga forced his head to turn, and he met Daichi’s eyes. Both the men were glowing red like stoplights.  
     Slowly, experimentally, Suga leaned in. At first, Daichi didn’t move, and Suga faltered. _Well, you’ve done all the damage there is to do. Might as well dig your grave an inch or two deeper._ So he closed the gap and pressed his lips against Daichi’s.  
     It was not fireworks. It was not perfect. It wasn’t anything that Suga had ever dreamed it of being. It was weird and awkward and Suga wasn’t sure if this was what Daichi had meant. But it didn’t matter, because Suga was kissing Daichi and he was not being pushed away and that was all he wanted.  
     Painfully aware he had probably just ruined their friendship, Suga pulled away from Daichi. He kept his eyes closed, afraid of what he would see if he opened them. But before he could apologize or run away or both, Daichi was kissing him. On the mouth. And his hand was resting on Suga’s. And Suga could definitely feel his own pulse matching Daichi’s.  
     Delicately, Suga started to kiss him back.  
     Delicately, Daichi lifted his hand to Suga’s hair.  
     Delicately, Suga prodded Daichi’s mouth open with his tongue.  
     Delicately, Daichi lifted his other hand to Suga’s thigh.  
     They stayed like this for either heartbeats or lifetimes, Suga couldn’t tell. Neither would quite take that one step further, nor that one step back. It infuriated Suga, it relieved him. This was the kiss of contradictions.  
     However, they simultaneously did break apart, panting slightly and blushing furiously. Somehow, Suga had his hand resting on Daichi’s hip under his shirt. Daichi’s fingers were laced in Suga’s hair in a way that ached but didn’t exactly hurt. When their eyes met, Suga noted how Daichi’s normally sure gaze was uncertain and, dare he say, nervous. Suga, on the other hand, was feeling more confident than he had in months. But he decided to spare his friend from further embarrassment that would surely be if he jumped back into it.  
     Instead, both continued to catch their breath and let what they had done sink in. Daichi released Suga’s hair, and Suga removed his hand from under Daichi’s shirt. They scooted away from each other, heads down and hands clasped in laps in an almost pious way.  
     Daichi broke the silence. “So, uh, you like guys?” He whispered it like a dirty secret or confession.  
     “What gave it away?” Suga muttered. Suddenly, he was tired. He was tired of liking Daichi, tired of liking someone who probably kissed him just to be nice, tired of pretending that having said someone staying at his apartment didn’t affect him. He wanted to curl up in a ball and forget about his emotions for a few minutes or years.  
     Daichi cleared his throat. “Ah,” Silence. “Well, that was a little, um, unexpected.”  
     “You asked.”  
     “No, um, it’s not bad or anything. Just so you know.”  
     “Well, I’m glad my straight friend doesn’t-”  
     “Wait, you thought I was straight?”  
     Suga’s head snapped up. Daichi was looking at him with an unreadable expression, but it was possibly disbelieving. “You aren’t?” He asked.  
     “No, of course not. You knew I wasn’t.”  
     “No, I most assuredly didn’t.” Suga said, looking Daichi dead in the eyes. “How on earth would I ever know that?”  
     Daichi threw up his hands. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’ve asked you out before, but you flat out rejected me!”  
     “What?” Suga yelped. “When did you do that?”  
     “Third year, after the season ended. We had that party at Tanaka’s, and- do you really not remember?” Daichi asked. Suga shook his head. “Well, I was drunk and I stood up on the table and asked you to be my boyfriend. You said you didn’t swing that way and left like five minutes later.”  
     Suga wracked his brain, trying to picture the scene. He did remember the party, and the alcohol. He remembered small things, like how Tanaka had been wearing a bright green shirt and Hinata had gagged on his first sip of sake, but no love confessions. Slowly, he shook his head. “I really don’t remember that part. I may have been drunk, but…” He chewed his lip. “Sorry, Daichi.” He murmured. Slowly, he turned to Daichi. “I’m about three or so years late, but I would like to say that I was wrong. I do swing that way,” He closed his eyes then, preparing his mouth to say something very lame. “If your offer still stands, I wouldn’t mind being your boyfriend. I wouldn’t have minded it then, either, for the record.” He added quickly.  
      He didn’t open his eyes. He couldn’t. But he felt Daichi come back to him, and felt his fingers become twined in his. Then, barely an inch from his face, Daichi said “Of course it does, Koushi,” before he pressed his lips lightly against Suga’s.

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I wrote months ago. I like to think I've improved, so bear with me. I'll get there.


End file.
